


Novocaine

by TheJGatsby



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Swearing, literally just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3892738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheJGatsby/pseuds/TheJGatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s still almost completely experimental, so it’s nobody’s fault Bellamy got maybe a little bit too much of their newly concocted painkilling herb cocktail, not really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Novocaine

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something silly- I hope you enjoy!

Clarke is addressing a small wound on his shoulder and, because of it, doesn’t notice Bellamy’s woken up until the hushed, slurred, “Holy shit!” he lets out.

She jumps and then moves to hold his face, checking his pupillary reflexes and inspecting him. “Oh good, you’re awake, how do you feel?”

“Oh my god you’re beautiful,” he says, delirious and full of awe. “You’re just- you’re wow. Wow. You. Incredible. God.” Clarke blushes- sure, he’s apparently completely wasted on the artificial painkiller they gave him, but they do say the only ones who tell the truth are kids and drunk people. Her reddening cheeks only seem to encourage him however as his bleary eyes go wide and he huffs out a breath. “You’re cute when you blush. Who are you? Do we know each other? I hope we know each other. You’re too pretty not to know- wait hang on are you an angel? Am I dead? Did I die? That’s okay. That’s okay. You’re so beautiful I don’t care anyway. Heaven is nice.”

Clarke bites back a smile. “What’s the last thing you remember, Bellamy?”

He sighs. “Oh, I don’t even know. Um. I think I was hunting? Yeah. Hunting. There was a boar. It was really pissed.”

“Yeah, it gored you. You hit your head when you went down, too.”

“So am I dead or nah?”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re not dead. You bled a ton, but at this point I don’t have any doubt in my excellent stab wound fixing skills.”

“Wa-a-ait,” he says, blinking a few times. “You’re a doctor too? Oh my god. Please tell me I know you.”

“Yes, Bellamy. We know each other.”

He laughs, a boisterous sound that’s practically alien coming out of his usually stern mouth. “Fuck yeah! I know the gorgeous doctor!” He grins up at her, pupils still blown, still obviously high out of his mind. “What’s your name?”

“Clarke.”

He gasps, his eyes going wide again. “Oh I remember you! Clarke! I remember you, you’re like- perfect. You’re incredible. I don’t think I tell you that enough. Have I ever told you you’re incredible?”

“No,” she replies with a smile, “you haven’t.”

“Well you are. You’re so incredible. Like, holy shit. You’re a doctor and a leader and a fighter and on top of all that you’re just so fucking _beautiful_ , Clarke, you’re fucking _radiant_. You know, sometimes I could just stare at you for like, hours. You’re just the prettiest person I’ve ever seen. And you’re so everything else too. I don’t want you to think I just think you’re pretty, Clarke, cause you’re like, amazing in every other way. You just happen to also be mind-blowingly gorgeous. And smart. And nice. And, just, everything. God, you’re perfect.”

At this point she’s trying really hard to stifle her laughter. She _likes_ druggy Bellamy. He’s a good time. “You’re not so bad yourself, Bell.”

“No. Nah. Nope.” He starts to shake his head then winces as his head injury reacts to the motion. “I’m just me. I’m just a guy, you know? I’m not special. You’re special. You’re so special. You’re like, the specialest.” He sighs. “Can I tell you a secret? Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“I promise,” she replies solemnly, fighting a grin all the while.

“Okay well nobody knows and it’s super embarrassing, but I think I’m in love with you. No. No, that’s wrong. I’m in love with you. Completely. I know it.”

For a second Clarke’s heart stutters and her face goes red again, before she shakes her head and says, “No, Bellamy, you’re just on a lot of drugs right now.”

He scoffs. “Don’t tell me how I feel, princess. I know me. I know. I know I’m in love with you cause I felt it even _before_ you gave me all these drugs. I’ve wanted to kiss your face for _so fucking long_ , princess. Like it’s not even that I wanna have sex with you- and don’t get me wrong, I _super_ do cause you’re _so beautiful holy shit_ \- but like. I don’t _just_ wanna have sex with you. I want to like. Kiss you whenever I want to, and hold your hand, and sleep with you. Not like sleep with you but just like. In the same bed. Together. You know? So I’m in love with you.”

Clarke just stares at him for a long minute, her heart pounding away in her chest, and the “honest drunk people” line pops into her head again, against her better judgment. Finally, she leans over and kisses his forehead and tells him to go back to sleep till the drugs wear off.

 

A few hours later, Bellamy wakes again with a groan, sitting up and rubbing at his temple. Clarke doesn’t turn to look at him as she calls out, “How do you feel?”

“Like a giant fucking boar just gored me and trampled my skull,” he says, his voice groggy but sober sounding.

“Not too far from the truth.”

“How long was I out?”

“About six hours all told. You woke up in the middle.” She pretends to be busy organizing or fiddling with something so she doesn’t have to turn and look at him.

“Really? I don’t remember.”

“You were, uh. You were very… altered.” She blushes at the memory.

He groans and squinches his eyes shut. “Did you test that new painkiller crap on me?”

She shrugs. “We had to try it sometime. You didn’t seem pained, just really wasted.”

“Did I do anything embarrassing?” Her hands still for a moment as she remembers everything he said that he’d probably now be embarrassed by.

“Nah you mostly just laid there and, uh, talked.” She still won’t look at him and he’s beginning to get suspicious until it dawns on him.

“Oh god I told you I love you, didn’t I?” She nods wordlessly. “God, princess, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Before he can start making excuses, she’s crossed the few steps between them and her lips are crashing into his and every thought is going out of his head except for _holy hell Clarke is kissing me_. And for a long moment he’s frozen, just trying to catch up with reality, but when he does, he wraps his arms around her, tangling one hand in her hair and splaying the other across her back to pull her closer, not failing to notice the way his hand stretches over almost her entire lower back. Her body is so much smaller than her presence.

After what seems like eternity, but is at the same time far too short, they break apart, breathless. “Don’t be sorry, Bell,” she murmurs.

“I’m not,” he replies with a wicked grin, before kissing her again.


End file.
